


The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

by moondragon23



Category: Psych
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Post-Series, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondragon23/pseuds/moondragon23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even as the gang split up and moved apart, some things just never change. Set soon after the finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redwolffclaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redwolffclaw/gifts).



> I do not own Psych or any of its characters. All other publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> This story was spawned by a chat between a bunch of us Psych-o's. It also serves as a bit of a prequel to a story I hope to write featuring the offspring of the Psych gang.
> 
> I hope this cheers you up Redwolffclaw!
> 
> Enjoy!

Lassiter surveyed his new living room. It didn't look like much now, with all the boxes cluttering things up, but he could imagine what it could be. His antique civil war swords could go over the mantle. The television could possibly go in the corner near the front window. That way whomever was watching it could easily keep a lookout for anyone approaching the house and keep an eye on activity in the kitchen.

Marlowe would probably want one of the couches in front of the fireplace. While it would be nice to sit there in the winter in front of a roaring fire, he never liked to have his back exposed to the room like that. Maybe he could put a mirror or something on the mantle so he could keep an eye behind him. The other couch could go under the back window near the door. He would have the wall at his back and a good view of all the entrances.

He frowned at the fireplace. He should probably get something to block that off when they weren't using it. Lily wasn't crawling yet, but so far she seemed determined to hit each developmental milestone early, starting with her birth. He did not want his daughter playing in that filthy place, tracking dirt around the house and catching God knew what diseases.

Henry came in the front door, carrying a large cardboard box, and interrupting his thoughts. “This one's full of baby stuff.”

Lassiter waved at the stairs. “Marlowe's setting up the nursery. Bring that stuff up to her.” He looked around, seeing no sign of the younger Spencer. “Where's your son?”

“Outside grabbing the last box,” Henry said before stomping up the stairs. Lassiter had to force himself not to yell at him for that. The ex-cop was doing him a favor by helping him move in. It had been Henry's house for more than thirty years. The stairs had survived Spencer running up and down them all that time, so it wasn't likely it would suddenly collapse now.

Speaking of annoying fake psychics, here was Spencer now, grumbling as he staggered into the room with an apparently heavy box. “Where do you want this?” he panted.

Lassiter put his hand to his chin and hummed thoughtfully. He looked around the room, taking his time, while Spencer struggled to keep from dropping the box. “Any time now Lassie,” the younger man complained.

Lassiter smirked. “You can put it there next to the others,” he said, pointing to a stack of boxes in the far corner.

Spencer sighed heavily and stumbled over to them. He managed to get the box down without mishap, then bent over with his hands on his knees, panting. “What the hell do you have in there?” he gasped.

Lassiter studied the box for a moment. “I think that one is my gun collection.” He glared at Spencer. “Nothing better be damaged in there.”

“There is no way that is just your guns.” Spencer ripped the tape off the top of the box and looked inside. “Damn Lassie, how many do you need?” he asked, his tone equal parts mocking and impressed.

“Enough to keep my family safe, no matter what happens,” Lassiter said. “I've got the rest in the trunk of my car until I find a safe place to store them.”

“Safe room?” Spencer asked.

“Something like that.” He had already scouted out the basement and made some sketches of how he could wall off part of the space for a mini-armory. He would keep most of his guns there; Marlowe didn't want them hidden around the house now that they had a child. The rest he would just have to hide extra well; he didn't want to be caught unprepared.

“If you weren't so far away, I'd make you my apocalypse buddy,” Spencer said, closing the box. “Gus just wants to stockpile food and water.”

Lassiter shook his head at the stupidity of some people. _How could you hope to keep yourself and your loved ones safe without any weapons?_ “I hope O'Hara has better sense then that.”

“With the number of guns she has hidden around her new place, I think we'll be fine,” Spencer said dryly. “Someone taught her well.”

“Thanks,” Lassiter said slowly. He was never sure if a compliment from Spencer was mocking or genuine. This one felt a little of both.

He headed into the kitchen. It was in as much disarray as the rest of the house, boxes stacked everywhere and leaving little room to maneuver. He made his way to the cooler sitting on the island and pulled out two beers. He handed one to Spencer, who had followed him into the room.

“Thanks,” Spencer said. They sipped their beer quietly for a couple minutes, the silence between them for once not filled with tension.

“How's O'Hara doing?” Lassiter asked.

“Good,” Spencer said with a smile. “She wanted to come down with me, but got stuck with a double homicide this morning. She sent some things for Lily; I gave them to Marlowe.”

“She's welcome to come down any time she's free to visit her,” Lassiter said. His ex-partner had been infatuated with Lily as soon as she met her. O'Hara was constantly sending them things for her or calling to check how she was doing. It was part of the reason he was considering asking her to be Lily's godmother.

Of course, that could lead to problems now that O'Hara and Spencer were engaged. He did _not_ want that annoying pain in the ass to be godfather to his child. The man was too much like a child himself, utterly irresponsible. He didn't know what had possessed his ex-partner to date him in the first place, let alone agree to marry him.

“I'm sure she will,” Spencer said. “Lily's a cute kid. Who could resist her?”

The obvious affection in Spencer's voice raised his opinion of the man a few notches. Marlowe had let Spencer hold Lily that morning, despite his protests. The younger man had been entranced by his daughter and extremely careful with her. Lily had taken to Spencer as well and she was soon giggling in his arms.He didn't doubt Spencer would strive to protect her just as much as O'Hara or he himself would. With O'Hara at his side, maybe Spencer wouldn't make such a bad godfather after all.

Spencer shifted where he was leaning against the counter, rubbing idly at the back of his neck. Lassiter eyed him curiously. Something was bothering the younger man. Spencer had been giving him odd looks most of the day. Instead of asking what was bothering him, Lassiter had decided to wait, sure Spencer would say something eventually.

Spencer looked around the room, his gaze never once landing on Lassiter. “Did you get my DVD message?” he asked casually.

 _Ah, so that's what this is about._ He couldn't blame Spencer for being nervous, considering what he knew had been in that message. “Yeah, I got it.”

Spencer stiffened ever so slightly. He kept his gaze on the floor, still not looking at him. “Did you watch it?”

Lassiter took a sip of his beer, considering his answer. Spencer was picking at the label on his bottle, waiting anxiously. “I tried to. Next time, double check your discs before you send them. Mine froze up near the beginning.”

“Really?” Spencer asked, looking up at him in surprise. “What did you do with it?”

“Tossed it.” Lassiter shrugged. “Didn't need twenty seconds of you babbling on about how we're suddenly friends.”

Spencer shook his head, tension flowing out of him. He smiled at him. “Come on, Lassie. We've always been friends.”

Lassiter snorted. “In your dreams.”

Spencer just kept on smiling. “Whatever you say.”

Henry came stomping down the stairs. Once again, Lassiter had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling at the man. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spencer smirk, having obviously guessed what he was thinking. “I got the crib set up in the nursery. And the patch over the hole Shawn made in the wall looks to be holding well.” He shot a look at his son, who appeared embarrassed at the reminder of the bed jumping incident.

“Thanks for the help, Henry,” Lassiter said, holding out his hand.

Henry shook it firmly. “No problem. I'm always glad to help a fellow cop.” He turned to his son. “You ready Shawn? We have to leave now if you want me to get your crap to San Francisco by nightfall.” With a nod towards Lassiter, he headed out the door.

Spencer drained his beer and put the empty bottle on the counter. “That's my cue. See you around Lassie.” He held out his hand and Lassiter shook it gingerly. “You should ask Jules to be the godmother,” Spencer said quietly. Lassiter looked at him in surprise and Spencer grinned. “I promise I won't make a fuss over it.” Clapping a hand on his back, he left.

Lassiter shook his head. It was times like these that made him wish he had watched that DVD. Except then he would be obligated to arrest Spencer and he didn't feel right doing that after all the help the younger man had given the department over the years. Though a part of him would always wonder how he did it.

Sighing, he climbed up the stairs and entered his daughter's room. In contrast to the rest of the house, this room was already looking fit for habitation. The boxes for the nursery were among the first things unloaded that morning and Marlowe had immediately started unpacking. The changing table was fully stocked and Marlowe was putting things away in the dresser. She turned and smiled at him as he walked over. “Hey. Everything unloaded?”

Lassiter wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “Yes. We are now officially moved in.”

“I'm almost down unpacking in here. I just have a couple boxes left.” She pointed at the crib. “Henry set it up for me. He did a really good job. Lily seems to like it too.”

Lassiter walked over to the crib. His daughter was lying on her back, staring up at the mobile above her. When she saw him peering down at her, she smiled. He smiled back, his gaze traveling over all the stuffed toys they had been bombarded with as soon as Lily was born. His smile froze when he saw the toy lying closest to his daughter. “What is _that_?!”

“Isn't it cute?” Marlowe asked happily, walking over to stand next to him. “Shawn brought it as a replacement for the one his friend stole.”

Lassiter glared at the furry shape lying next to his daughter. One chubby little fist was clasped around the toy's paw. “It's a _squirrel_.”

“Carlton, honey, it's just a stuffed animal,” Marlowe said soothingly.

“Real or not, I am _not_ letting my daughter cuddle up next to one of those furry menaces.” He reached into the crib and gently tugged the toy out of Lily's hand.

Lily looked up at him with wide eyes for a moment. Then her face scrunched up and she started crying. Loudly.

With a sigh, Lassiter put the hated animal back down next to her. She stopped crying immediately, her little hand grabbing on tightly to the toy.

“Awww, isn't that sweet? She likes it.” Marlowe smiled down at Lily, making little smoochy noises.

“Great,” Lassiter said, forcing a fake smile on his face when Marlowe glanced at him. Inside, he was seething. Spencer knew how much he hated squirrels. This was just another way to mess with him. He couldn't believe he had actually been considering making the man Lily's godfather.

A thought occurred to him and his smile became genuine. Maybe he still would let Spencer become the godfather, lull him into a false sense of security. And when Spencer inevitably had a kid (something he wished would never happen but he knew how much O'Hara wanted a big family), he could send Spencer a little gift of his own.

 

* * *

_About two years later_

 

“Shawn?”

Shawn jerked upright on the couch, roused by Juliet's voice. He glanced at the play pen in the corner, but James was still laying there quietly. Yawning, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he got up and stumbled towards the door.

He met Juliet halfway there, struggling to carry a large box along with her briefcase. “Let me help.” He grabbed the box, grunting under the weight, and carried it into their living room. “Where did this come from?”

“It was sitting in front of the door.” Juliet frowned. “Didn't you hear the UPS guy?”

Shawn shook his head. “I guess I fell asleep,” he said ruefully.

Juliet put her briefcase down and crossed to the play pen. “And how was mommy's little boy today?” she asked, scooping up James. She made cutesy faces at him until he laughed, waving his little arms.

Shawn couldn't help smiling himself at the scene. Watching his wife holding his beautiful son gave him a sense of belonging he hadn't felt since before his mom left. He crossed the room and hugged them, kissing James lightly on top of his head. “Well, we sat around watching a Phineas and Ferb marathon. Then he had his bottle and finished every last drop, didn't you?” James waved an arm at him, giving a little shout. Shawn grinned at him. “I put him down for a nap around two.”

“And joined him soon after?” Juliet asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shawn shrugged. “Guess I still need to catch up on some sleep.”

“Let me change and I'll take him for a bit,” Juliet said. She passed James over, who giggled at being in his father's arms. “Though you'll have to make dinner then.”

“As long as pizza is fine,” Shawn called after her as she walked towards the bedroom. She waved at him, which he took as an okay. “Meat lover's supreme it is.” He grabbed the phone and called in a pizza for delivery before turning back to the box in the middle of the room. He looked down at James. “Let's see what this is.”

The box had a return address from Santa Barbara. Guessing it was another care package, he ripped off the tape and opened it up. “More baby stuff,” he yelled to Juliet.

His wife came back into the room in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. “Did they send anything good?” she asked, taking James from him.

“Let's find out.” Shawn started digging through the box. “My dad sent some more of my old baby stuff. There's some new clothes,” he held up the note attached to them, “says it from McNab. Looks like Marlowe sent some of Lily's old things as well. At least they're not in girly colors this time.” He dug deeper into the box. When he reached the bottom, he let out a shriek and jumped back.

“What is it?” Juliet asked worriedly, hugging James to her protectively.

Shawn pointed a shaking hand towards the box. “ _That!_ ”

Juliet put James in his play pen, then cautiously approached the box. She carefully peered inside. “Really, Shawn? It's just a toy.” She reached in and pulled out the furry creature.

“ _That_ is not a toy,” Shawn insisted. “ _That_ is the furry embodiment of pure evil.”

“I think it's cute.” Juliet went over to the play pen and put the animal down in front of James.

“Wait!” Shawn yelled, but it was too late. James grabbed the stuffed raccoon and started chewing on its head. He looked up at Juliet and grinned, waving around his new toy.

“He likes it,” Juliet said happily.

“Great,” Shawn muttered. He turned back to the box and noticed a note on the floor. It must have been attached to the cursed toy.

_Spencer_

_Since you_ _gave Lily her favorite toy_ _, I thought I should return the favor._

_Lassiter_

He should have known things were too peaceful between him and Lassiter, even after the man had reluctantly made them Lily's godparents.Lassiter hated that the stuffed squirrel had become Lily's favorite toy. She took it with her wherever she went. Shawn had played nice since then. Lily's next toy had been a cop bear, complete with handcuffs, that he and Juliet had made at Build-A-Bear (he had made himself a Hawaiian bear with little pineapples on its shirt that day, though he gave it to James after he was born). But he had forgotten how well Lassiter could hold a grudge.

“We should send Lassiter and Marlowe something for Lily, to thank them for all the baby supplies,” Shawn suggested. He knew just the thing too; a tie-dyed onesie with a big peace symbol on the front. No way was Lassiter going to win this fight.

“That sounds great, Shawn,” Juliet said, oblivious to his plans.

Shawn walked over to the play pen, looking down at his son with his new toy. “Game on, Lassie,” he said quietly. “Game on.”

**Author's Note:**

> And thus the war begins :)
> 
> Please read and review.


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